eases of the Mind and Bodie," from the same, another, on the same subject, from Maximus Tyrius; and, lastly, "The Praise and Happinesse of the Country Life," from the Spanish of Guevara. All these have separate title-pages, and were published in the year 1651.

We now, however, approach a very important period of our poet's life, when a change seems to have come over his spirit, which influenced it to the close of his earthly career. He was at this time visited by a severe and lingering illness, of what character exactly is not specified. It was, however, of a nature to bring him to the brink of the grave, and to keep him long in a state of solitude and suffering; and, while he was in this condition, more deep and solemn religious views and feelings appear to have broken in upon his soul than any he had before harboured. The high and holy claims of God; the infinite importance of eternity; the worthlessness of the world, and the folly of living for it; the baseness of sin, and the consequences of indulging in it, all seem to have pressed heavily on his mind at this crisis, and to have filled him with great humility and seriousness; and, though he subsequently learned to look with hope and comfort to the mercy of God, vouchsafed to the penitent, through the death and merits of Jesus Christ, still this spirit of lowly watchfulness, so suitable to frail humanity, seems never to have left him. He carried it with him to his

dying bed, and it appears in the epitaph he wished to be inscribed on his tomb. During this period likewise, he seems to have had his affections severely tried by the untimely death of friends. There are, in the pieces composed by him at this season, many touching, though obscure, allusions to such losses. And these, along with his other trials, contributed to break up the fallow ground in his heart, and prepare it for the reception of the divine seed that was subsequently sown there. Just at this time, he became acquainted with the writings of George Herbert, and derived from them so much of comfort and instruction, that he determined to make the life and compositions of that holy man his own future models. In imitation, therefore, of his Temple, he composed, during the intervals of exemption from acute suffering, a number of little "Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations;" and, while his Oxford friends were publishing, contrary to his wishes, the "Olor Iscanus," he gave the world a more faithful record of his mind and heart, in a collection of these, entitled, "Silex Scintillans" (Sparks from the Flintstone). This work was printed in London in the year 1650, and consisted of only one of the two parts subsequently published together.

Close upon this publication followed a little book of devotions in prose, entitled "The Mount of Olives," and printed in the year 1652. It consists entirely of prayers, meditations, and admoni

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tions, all excellent of their kind, and calculated at once to benefit the reader, and raise the writer in his estimation. There is little or no poetry in the volume, the only original poetical production there being a kind of preface to the last piece in the volume, "An excellent Discourse of the blessed State of Man in Glory, written by the most reverend and holy Father Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury." The lines are as follows:

"Here holy Anselme lives in every page,

And sits archbishop still to vex the age.
Had he foreseen (and who knows but he did?)
This fatal wrack, which deepe in time lay hid,
'Tis but just to believe, that little hand,
Which clouded him, but now benights our land,
Had never, like Elias, driven him hence,
A sad retirer for a slight offence.

For were he now, like the returning year,
Restored to view these desolations here,
He would do penance for his old complaint,
And weeping say that Rufus was a saint."

This work is dedicated, October 1st, 1651, to Sir Charles Egerton, Knight, to whom the writer says: "I know, sir, you will be pleased to accept this poore olive leafe presented to you, so that I shall not be driven to put forth my hand to take in my dove again." It will be conjectured, from the epithets given to St. Anselm, that Vaughan's religious spirit, though very fervent and real, was not exactly of the character of that which prevailed at this time. The Puritan principle had

been to cry down antiquity, and pour contempt on that which was authorized and established. Vaughan, on the other hand, was a lover of order. He knew how to distinguish between forms and formality. He delighted to look up to the great and good of other days for direction and precedent. What others before him had found to be conducive to their spiritual welfare might, he thought, conduce to his. He was glad, therefore, to listen to their teaching, and conform to their example; and instruction always came to him with additional weight and force, when backed by such authority.

At no very distant period, Vaughan sent forth another little volume in prose, entitled, "Flores Solitudinis" (Flowers of Solitude), "certaine pieces collected by him in his sicknesse and retirement." There are, first, two discourses, the one "Of Temperance and Patience," and the other "Of Life and Death," translated, in 1652, from the Latin of Nierembergius; secondly, "The World Contemned," taken from Eucherius, Bishop of Lyons; and, thirdly, "The Life of Paulinus, Bishop of Nola," compiled by Vaughan himself. These are dedicated to the same Sir Charles Egerton to whom his "Mount of Olives" was inscribed; and his address to him concludes in these words: "You will look upon my suddaine and small presents as upon some forward flowers, whose kinde haste hath brought them above ground in cold weather.

The

uncertainty of life, and a peevish, inconstant state of health, would not suffer me to stay for greater performances or a better season, lest, losing this, I should never again have the opportunity to manifest how much and how sincerely I am, sir, your servant, &c." These pieces, Vaughan tells us, were likewise translated by him during his long illness. They had comforted and instructed him under his heavy afflictions, and he published them in the hope that they might produce like effects on others, and enable them likewise to give up the world for God. "To leave the world," he says in his preface," when it leaves us, is both sordid and sorrowful I honour that temper which can lay by the garland when he might keep it on; which can pass by a rose-bud, and bid it grow, when he is invited to crop it." It is a remarkable circumstance, that some of the most sweet and simple prose writers in our language are to be found among those whose compositions in verse are the most full of affectations and conceits. What a dissimilarity, for instance, is there between Cowley's " Essays" and his "Mistress," between Donne's" Sermons" and his " Poems"! Quarles's grotesque quaintness in his "Emblems" curiously contrasts with the simple strength of his "Judgment and Mercy;" and we find little of the epigrammatic abruptness of the "Night Thoughts" in Young's "Centaur not Fabulous. "And, if Vaughan had attempted any great original work